Ride The Storm
by Hedgehog JW
Summary: John is struggling with nightmares and flashbacks after an attack by Moriarty. Can Sherlock help him get his confidence back? This is a follow up to My Friend My Enemy so you might like to read that first.
1. Chapter 1

John Watson stood outside 221b Baker Street and took a deep breath. This was the first time he'd been out on his own in weeks. Sherlock had been a little overprotective but he understood why and he appreciated him caring. In fact all his friends had been a little overprotective so it felt good to have five minutes to himself.

He'd been home from the hospital for about three weeks now. In that time all of his memories had returned to him except the short period between leaving Baker Street that fateful morning and waking up in hospital with Jim Moriarty by his side claiming to be his best buddy. He could live with that he decided. He didn't really want or need to know what Moriarty had done to him to convince him that Sherlock was the enemy. He knew drugs had been involved and that was enough.

His friends had been great, coming round to visit and helping him fill in the gaps. Molly, Greg, even Mike Stamford had been round to see him, it had all helped him piece things back together. But now he was ready to get back to normal.

He had been out of the flat before today but only with a chaperone. Sherlock hadn't even let him go to the corner shop alone, he'd made Mrs Hudson go with him. Mind you Sherlock had wanted to go to start off with. Oh god, can you imagine that he thought. Sherlock going shopping with him, John couldn't think of anything worse. It wasn't like he could get lost going to the corner shop anyway, with or without his memory. He tried to tell Sherlock that but he had a feeling Sherlock was more worried about Moriarty than him getting lost.

Still this morning John had managed to persuade Sherlock that he was fine, that he was quite capable of looking after himself just as he had been before all of this and that a walk to the corner shop on his own was just what he needed. Sherlock hadn't been happy about it but eventually he'd agreed.

So now John stood on the pavement outside 221b Baker Street on his own for the first time in weeks and it felt good. He took another deep breath and then turned left ready to head to the shops. After all he couldn't be too long or Sherlock would send out a search party. That thought put a smile on his face as he headed down the road.

Sherlock stood in 221b Baker Street watching his best friend walk down the road alone. It took all of his willpower not to go running after him but he'd promised. John had no idea how hard this was for him. John had no idea how hard those weeks had been without him, when Sherlock didn't know where he was, what had happened to him or if he was even alive. Then he'd had to sit and watch John suffer the pain and confusion of having no memories. Sherlock couldn't bear for that to happen again.

Still he knew John was right. He couldn't be with him every second of the day and John was perfectly capable of looking after himself. He'd been a soldier for god's sake. Sherlock sighed, turned away from the window and went and sat down. This was going to be the longest five minutes of his life, he just knew it.

John strolled down the road. He was happy with his life. If this whole thing had taught him anything it was that he had good friends who really cared about him and that was definitely something to be grateful for. However, the further he got from the safety of 221b the more nervous he became. Pull yourself together, he thought, you're a grown man for Christ's sake you can go to the shop alone.

Nerves were to be expected John decided what with the memory loss and then being cooped up for so long it was just strange to be on his own that's all. He took a deep breath, pulled himself up straight and carried on walking. He found himself constantly looking around, checking out every person he passed like they were a danger or something. What was he doing? This was ridiculous. He wasn't on the battlefield now, he was walking down Baker Street. He just needed to get some milk and tea bags it wasn't that hard.

By the time John reached the shop his pulse was racing and his breathing was fast. He went in through the door and stood in the aisle staring around him. He was having a panic attack he suddenly realised. He couldn't believe it. What was happening to him if he couldn't even go to the corner shop without panicking?

"Are you OK?" a young woman asked him "Can I help you with anything?"

John composed himself trying desperately to slow his breathing. "No I'm fine thanks" he replied, strode over to the tea bags and grabbed a box off the shelf. You're nearly done, he thought, just milk and head home, you'll be fine. He was fighting now to keep his panic under control but he was determined to get through this. There was no way he was letting Moriarty win.

He was starting to realise that his apprehension came from the fact that he had no idea how he ended up with Moriarty before so he didn't know how to stop it happening again. Still there was no way he was giving in to this. Most people did not work for Jim Moriarty. Most people were just ordinary folks out getting their shopping he told himself.

He took his two items to the till, paid and left, hurriedly walking back up the street towards 221b, towards Sherlock and somewhere he felt safe.

Sherlock had given up trying to sit calmly while waiting for his friend to return. He was now pacing the living room and looking out of the window every few seconds trying to see John coming back. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he left even if it was only about five minutes.

When Sherlock spotted John he knew something was wrong. John was staring straight ahead walking quickly towards the flat but he never normally walked that fast. He looked almost frightened Sherlock thought. He watched him carefully until he got to the front door and Sherlock heard him unlock it and enter.

John opened the black door, walked in, shut it behind him and then leant on it breathing heavily. He'd made it. Home, safe and sound. He was breathing too hard, he couldn't go upstairs like this, Sherlock would know something was wrong. He took a couple of deep breaths to compose himself and then walked slowly up the stairs.

When he got to the kitchen to put the shopping down Sherlock was waiting for him. "You OK?" he asked. John wasn't ready for this he knew he couldn't answer that convincingly right now so he didn't, he just dumped the bag and headed to the bathroom went inside and locked the door.

"John! John are you OK?" Sherlock called after him.

"Yeah, just give me a minute." he called back. He leaned on the sink staring at himself in the mirror. Jesus what is wrong with you he asked himself. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. Gradually he could feel his heart rate slowing and he felt calmer. He rubbed his face with his hands and sighed. Come on you can do this he told himself. Then he flushed the toilet, washed his hands and left the room as if nothing was wrong.

Sherlock was waiting in the hallway, he eyed John suspiciously. "What?" John asked.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just got caught short that's all. Cuppa?" John asked as he walked past his friend into the kitchen.

"Please." Sherlock replied. He stared at John for a little while longer and then headed to the living room and sat down. He knew something wasn't right but he also knew John was not about to tell him about it. As hard as it was Sherlock was just going to have to wait for his answers.

John breathed a sigh of relief as Sherlock went and sat down. He knew his friend had seen through him but it seemed he wasn't going to push for answers, not yet anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock watched John carefully for the rest of the day trying to spot something that would tell him what had happened that morning. John was quiet and thoughtful but other than that he seemed alright. "So did you enjoy your little walk this morning?" he finally asked.

"Hm, oh yes." John replied not really paying attention.

Sherlock looked at him through narrowed eyes, his fingers steepled under his nose. He knew something wasn't right. John had been back to his normal self the last few days. With most of his memories restored he'd been determined to face the world again, determined to show Sherlock he was fine. But now he was quiet and reflective again. He'd shut himself off like he was thinking something over, like he'd been when he'd first come home from hospital and he was trying to put all his memories back in place. However, Sherlock knew John wasn't ready to tell him anything and so sighing he decided he'd just have to wait until John thought the time was right to fill him in.

John knew Sherlock was watching him, trying to figure out what he was thinking. He knew the question about his "little walk" had been Sherlock's way of trying to start the conversation but he wasn't ready to tell Sherlock about his panic attack. He knew if he did Sherlock would never let him out of sight again. Besides he was embarrassed. Fancy a retired soldier being scared to walk down the street alone. It really was ridiculous.

As early as he thought he could get away with John said goodnight and headed off to bed. He was feeling uncomfortable under Sherlock's intense gaze and he hoped a good night's sleep would help him get his head straight. He lay staring at the ceiling wondering what he should do next. Did he just need to give himself some more time or should he get out there and face his fear. Maybe he needed to make an appointment with Ella his therapist he thought.

Eventually John drifted off to sleep. In his dreams he could see Moriarty standing over him, he was struggling but he couldn't move. He was tied to a chair, Moriarty was taunting him "You'll soon forget Sherlock you know" he was saying "and I'm sorry to say it's going to be a painful experience"

John could feel the desperation growing inside him, he was pulling at his restraints but they wouldn't budge. Someone was leaning over him, they had something in their hands, they were reaching for his head, he was trying to pull away but he couldn't. The pain. He screamed.

Sherlock was fast asleep when a terrible, blood curdling scream woke him. He sat bolt upright in bed. What was that? Then he realised it must have been John. He dived out of bed and was up the stairs quicker than he knew was possible. As he rushed into John's room he saw his friend sitting up, breathing heavily, his eyes wide with fear. Sherlock rushed over to him "John, what is it?" he asked.

John couldn't answer, his heart was pounding and he just kept breathing deeply trying to get his panic under control. Sherlock sat gently beside him and placed his hand on John's shoulder. "John it's OK. You're safe here." he said reassuringly with a worried expression on his face.

John could slowly feel himself calming down. His breathing was becoming steadier and his heart rate was slowing. He looked at Sherlock. "What is it?" Sherlock asked.

John tried to smile "It was just a nightmare. Sorry I woke you."

"It's fine." Sherlock replied waving it away as unimportant. "What was the nightmare about?"

John turned away. He wasn't sure he was ready to tell Sherlock just yet, after all it was still a bit muddled in his head. He wasn't sure if this was a memory or just his fear from earlier playing tricks on him. "I don't really remember." he lied.

For the second time today Sherlock watched him through narrowed eyes unsure if he believed his friend or not. "Well you're OK now." Sherlock smiled "Do you need anything?"

John sighed "No I'm fine thanks."

"OK well goodnight then." Sherlock muttered as he got up to leave.

"Goodnight Sherlock"

After Sherlock left the room John flopped back down on his bed. What was happening to him? He rubbed his face with his hands and then placed his arm over his forehead. He lay there for some time not really sure he wanted to go back to sleep in case the nightmare returned.

Sherlock returned to his room but he couldn't sleep either. He lay awake worrying about his friend upstairs. What was wrong with John he wondered? What had happened when he'd gone out that morning? Whatever it was it had certainly unsettled him and Sherlock didn't like it.

* * *

 _Starcross123 - I liked your idea of the sequel. I thought about the revenge idea as well but I don't think I'm a good enough writer to put together a convincing show down between Sherlock and Moriarty. So I came up with a different idea. I hope when I get to the end you've enjoyed it. Thanks again for your support._


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning when Sherlock entered the kitchen John was sat at the table a cup of tea in his hand. Sherlock looked at his friend, he looked shattered, like he hadn't slept a wink after the nightmare. "Morning" Sherlock said brightly.

John looked up at him "Morning" he replied but although he tried to sound cheery Sherlock could see there was no cheer in his eyes. His friend looked tired and worried.

"You sleep OK after...you know?" Sherlock asked.

John nodded "Fine" he answered. Sherlock frowned. He knew his friend was lying to him but he didn't know why. What was it that John didn't want to share?

The routine of quiet days and nightmares continued for the next few days. Each night Sherlock would run to calm his friend and each night John would tell him it was nothing. Sherlock was growing increasingly concerned.

On the fourth night Sherlock ran to John's room on hearing the scream to find the door locked. He rattled it angrily. "John! John are you alright?" he called.

"I'm fine Sherlock go back to bed." John snapped back.

Sherlock could hear his friend breathing heavily. "Let me in." he called.

"Sherlock just go back to bed." was the only answer he received. Sherlock walked sadly away. He couldn't believe his best friend was just shutting him out like this. He wanted to help him, to know what was wrong. Why wouldn't John confide in him?

John lay in his bed feeling miserable, his body still shaking slightly from the dream. He hated treating Sherlock this way but he couldn't tell him what was going on, he didn't really know himself. He couldn't admit to Sherlock he was scared especially when he didn't know what of. He knew his friend respected his bravery and he wasn't ready to disappoint him. He felt like he was losing his mind.

The next morning when John came downstairs he was relieved to find Sherlock had gone out. Things were a bit strained between them and he felt so tired he couldn't deal with it right now. John made himself a cup of tea and went over to his laptop. He opened up his blog and started reading about his exploits with Sherlock. Somehow that man didn't feel like him anymore. He'd turned into a nervous wreck. Sadly he read on until a low battery warning flashed onto his screen.

John carried the laptop over to the desk, plugged in the cable and as he went to plug the charger into the socket on the wall there was a slight crackle of electricity and small flash of light.

All of a sudden John Watson was back in that room. He could see it, he could smell it. There was Jim Moriarty laughing at him. He was struggling to get free but it was no use. There was someone else in the room, a man, he couldn't see his face, he was injecting him with something. "You will forget that Sherlock is your friend" Moriarty sneered.

"Never gonna to happen." he was saying. His breathing was heavy, his heart pounding but it didn't matter how much he struggled he couldn't get free.

Moriarty was standing right over him now, his face inches away "Oh it's not just the drugs you have to worry about Dr Watson. You see they are just to help me convince you of my version of the truth but first we need to take away your memories." Moriarty clicked his fingers and John heard a buzzing noise behind him. He struggled to see what it was but he couldn't.

"Unfortunately for you John you're strong so this may take some time and I'm afraid to say it will be painful."

John could feel something being stuck to his temples. There were wires, he could feel them and see them out of the corners of his eyes.

"I just want you to know John that you will be the cause of Sherlock's demise." Moriarty laughed at him.

"Never!" John yelled. Moriarty nodded to the man behind him. He heard an increased buzzing noise and then he felt the pain. The electrical charge shot through his brain and caused his head to swim.

It stopped and once again Moriarty was in his face "Well John?"

John was struggling against his restraints. He wanted to get his hands on this man so much. How dare he do this? How dare he try to get him to destroy his best friend? "Never!" he screamed "I will never do that for you!"

"Ah well." Jim sighed as he nodded to the man and once again John felt the immense pain shoot through his skull.

As Sherlock opened the door to 221b Baker Street he met a frightened looking Mrs Hudson at the bottom of the stairs, a poker in her hand. He opened his mouth to speak when he heard John scream. He grabbed the poker from Mrs Hudson and bounded up the stairs two at a time desperate to get to his friend. As he went he could hear John shouting "Never! I will never do that for you!"

Sherlock burst in to the room not sure what he would find. The room was empty. He glanced around searching for John. When he finally saw him he couldn't believe his eyes. John was sat on the floor, his back against the wall, knees hugged tightly to his chest, eyes wide with fear, screaming at no one. Sherlock dropped the poker on the floor and ran to John's side. He reached out and held John's shoulders but he immediately started struggling to get free. "John. John it's me Sherlock. You're safe now. I promise you're safe."

John seemed to calm slightly at the sound of Sherlock's voice although he obviously wasn't really with him. Sherlock sat beside him, put his arm around his shoulders and held onto him all the time repeating the words "You're safe now. I promise you're safe." He could feel John's body shaking.

Mrs Hudson had entered the room. She stood with her hand over her mouth completely shocked by the scene before her. Sherlock looked up, he could see the tears in her eyes. He knew how she felt but he also knew that John needed him to be strong and he would be.

The three people stayed that way for at least five minutes before John's breathing started to slow and his body finally stopped shaking. Eventually he looked up at Sherlock "John what's wrong?" Sherlock asked almost pleading for an answer.

"I was there again Sherlock." John answered his voice cracking.

Sherlock looked at him confused "What Afghanistan?" The only thing Sherlock could think was that the loss of memory had caused John's PTSD to return.

"No not Afghanistan, with Moriarty. I know how he did it. I know how he took my memories."

John started to get up so Sherlock helped him to his feet and sat him in his chair. Sherlock looked at Mrs Hudson who was still a little shaken. "I'll put the kettle on." she muttered and wandered into the kitchen.

John rubbed his face and sighed. He was deathly pale and visibly disturbed by what he'd seen. Sherlock looked at him helplessly.

John took a deep breath and turned to Sherlock who was now sat opposite him. "I remember being tied to a chair with Moriarty sneering at me that I would be the one to destroy you. There was another man there helping him, I don't know who he was, never really saw his face I don't think. They injected me with those drugs but I knew that couldn't be it. They would suppress memories from coming back but not take them away."

"Then how?" Sherlock asked.

"Electric shock treatment." John told Sherlock. He saw hate fill his friends eyes.

"You mean he tortured you." Sherlock almost spat out the words. "The nightmares, it was all memories coming back to you?" John nodded. "Then why didn't you tell me John? Why did you shut me out?"

John could hear the sadness in his friend's voice. "Oh Sherlock I didn't mean to. Until today I didn't know they were memories. At first I thought they were just panic attacks, the nightmares weren't clear enough to tell. I couldn't admit to you that I was scared." John saw the look of confusion on Sherlock's face and dropped his head.

"I don't understand." Sherlock muttered.

John sighed "I'm not clever like you Sherlock but at least I was brave. In your eyes I was brave. I didn't want to disappoint you."

John never looked up as he said it but Sherlock could feel the pain in his words. He was horrified that John could even think that. "John you could never disappoint me." he blurted out. John looked into Sherlock's eyes as he continued "You're still brave. To think you had to face this alone. What Moriarty did to you... well anyone would feel scared facing that. But you're not alone are you? We can get through this together." Sherlock placed his hand on John's, John smiled and Sherlock could see some of the tension from the last few days fall away.

Mrs Hudson brought her boys their tea and placed it on the table. She patted John on the shoulder and smiled at him. "Sorry if I frightened you." John said to her.

He could see the tears well up in her eyes as she answered "Oh it's alright dear. It's not your fault." She turned away and muttered "I'll leave you boys to it." As she left the room Sherlock saw John chew on his bottom lip. He seemed to be feeling guilty about Mrs Hudson's upset. He was always thinking about other people, Sherlock noted, even when he was suffering.

"John?" Sherlock questioned "This all seemed to start that day you went to the shop on your own. What happened?"

John looked at Sherlock. "I had a panic attack." he let out a derisory laugh "I don't know why. Nothing happened. Maybe it was because I don't know how Moriarty got hold of me last time that I just felt like he could do it again. Honestly Sherlock, I don't know. I couldn't tell you what had happened because I was too embarrassed." The laugh again. "I felt stupid." John pushed his hands through his hair. He was feeling uncomfortable telling Sherlock this. "I tried so hard to convince you I was OK to go out on my own and then the moment I did I went crazy."

"You're not crazy." Sherlock snapped at him "Anyone who had been through what Moriarty put you through would react the same way." John smiled at his friend. Sherlock was actually trying to make him feel better.

"It seems to me we just have to ride this storm and once all your memories of that week come back to you... well then we can deal with it."

John relaxed back into his chair and picked up his tea. "Thank you Sherlock" he smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

That night John was shattered when he went to bed. He'd hardly slept for the past few nights and the earlier flashback had really taken it out of him. His eyes closed almost as soon as his head hit the pillow but it wasn't long before Moriarty haunted his dreams.

He saw himself walking down the street when he heard someone calling for help. He stopped to place where the shouts were coming from. As he turned he saw a young woman stood by an alleyway clearly panicked. "Someone help me please. My friend has collapsed. Please help me!"

John immediately went into doctor mode. He ran to the young woman. "It's OK I'm a doctor. Show me where your friend is." Another passerby ran up to them. "Can you call an ambulance?" he asked. They nodded and got on their phone straight away.

John followed the young woman down the alley. He could see a body on the floor in the shadows. He ran over to them. As he knelt down he felt someone grab him from behind and place something over his mouth. He struggled and got partially free. He was yelling and hitting out but all of a sudden he was surrounded. There were too many of them and there was nowhere to run.

They grabbed him, again something was placed over his mouth, he could feel his head start to spin, he felt a needle go into his arm and then he was awake.

Sherlock had been finding it difficult to sleep. He was too worried about John to really settle. As he lay in the darkness he heard some muffled shouting and movement upstairs. Immediately he knew John needed him.

He ran up the stairs and into John's room. He took hold of his friend who was thrashing about in his sleep. "John! John! It's OK. You're safe now." he told him.

John woke suddenly and sat staring wide eyed at his friend. His breathing was heavy and his heart was racing. He rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair as he tried to get himself under control.

"It's OK, you're safe now." Sherlock repeated placing his hand on John's arm. John nodded and sighed. "What did you see?" Sherlock asked him.

"I saw a woman shouting for help. She needed help for her friend who'd passed out. So I went. There were too many of them Sherlock. I tried to get away but there were too many of them. They grabbed me from behind and drugged me. I fought Sherlock I really did." John's voice was desperate.

"I know John, I know you did. It's OK." Sherlock tried to sooth him. "It's not your fault. Moriarty knew you would go to the aid of someone in trouble. It's who you are John. You save people."

For the next few nights the nightmares revealed new details of the torture John had endured at the hands of Moriarty. He took to sleeping on the sofa so that Sherlock didn't have so far to run when he called out and Sherlock spent many sleepless hours just talking through the things that John had recalled. They were both exhausted. They napped in the day when they could but even this sleep was often disturbed by John's restless mind.

When John was finally in possession of all the details of his past and after many hours of talking things through with Sherlock sleep finally became a little easier. The nightmares weren't quite as frequent but Sherlock knew that his friend's troubles weren't over yet. He'd noticed John's reluctance to leave the flat even with someone by his side. He'd noticed how he was always on edge and looking over his shoulder when they were out.

Then one afternoon when Sherlock had persuaded John to go out for a bite to eat a customer at the restaurant collapsed. As the staff panicked and called out for help Sherlock watched as John just sat at their table fists clenched, breathing heavily, but never moved. "John, aren't you going to help him?" Sherlock asked. No response. "John that man needs a doctor."

John looked up at him startled "What?"

"That man over there" Sherlock pointed "He needs a doctor."

John looked across the room. His eyes caught sight of the man on the floor. For a second he froze but then his instincts took over. Sherlock watched with a pride as his old friend resurfaced and took control of the situation until the ambulance arrived.

When the drama was over, Sherlock and John returned home. "You did well tonight." Sherlock said as they walked into the living room. John just shrugged. "Really you did. It's like I said you save people it's what you do."

"Yeah well I still panicked when I heard those cries for help, didn't I? I wouldn't have done anything if you hadn't brought me to my senses."

Sherlock watched as John sat down unable to make eye contact with him, obviously ashamed that he hadn't reacted quicker. "It will get easier you know." Sherlock said as he sat down.

"Will it! Will it really!" John snapped at him "How would you know? Some doctor I am if I'm too scared to help."

"Why don't you make an appointment to see your therapist? I'm sure that would help." Sherlock suggested completely at a loss as to what else he could say.

"I'm pathetic Sherlock. Don't you understand?" John yelled and stormed up the stairs to his room.

Sherlock followed but found a locked door in front of him. "John. John don't be so hard on yourself. You've been through a lot."

"Just leave me alone Sherlock please." John pleaded. Sherlock was sure John was crying and there was nothing he could do.

He went down stairs and sat in his chair trying to figure out a way to help his friend. He was angry with Moriarty for causing this hurt but he'd had his whole homeless network trying to find him but it was no use. Moriarty was too good at hiding, but one day Sherlock would find him. One day he'd get revenge for what he'd done to John.

The next morning John came sheepishly down the stairs and found Sherlock sat at the kitchen table cup of tea in hand. "Tea John?" he asked.

"Please" John muttered. He sat down opposite Sherlock and took the cup that was offered to him. "Look, I'm sorry about last night." he started to say.

"Don't be silly" Sherlock answered with a wave of his hand. "It's fine."

"No it's not. But I've decided you're right I need to go and see Ella again get my head straight. I'm going to ring and make an appointment later."

"Good. That's good." Sherlock told him. He looked at John's face there seemed to be something else he wanted to say but he wasn't saying it. Sherlock frowned and then it dawned on him what it might be. "I'll come with you if you like." He offered casually.

He saw the relief in John's eyes. "OK, thanks." he replied.


	5. Chapter 5

Over the next few weeks the frequent therapy sessions seemed to help John. Sherlock noticed his friend getting back to his normal self although he was still nervous about going out alone. Ella had tried to persuade John to give it a go but so far he hadn't managed it.

Sherlock wanted to help, he'd tried giving John encouragement but that hadn't worked. Sherlock wasn't very good at it if he was truthful. He needed to come up with a plan to make John realise he was still the same person he used to be. He was still Doctor John Watson, Captain in the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers.

One evening while Sherlock and John were talking, Sherlock let slip that he'd had his homeless network looking for Moriarty. "Why Sherlock?" John had asked.

"Because I can't let him get away with what he did to you, that's why."

"I know but Sherlock the last thing I want is you getting hurt trying to get revenge for me. Please leave it or at least let Lestrade handle it if you get any information."

"You wouldn't normally say that." Sherlock stated.

"Well perhaps not. But normally I'd be there to protect you and right now I can't do that can I?" John huffed and stomped off into the kitchen. Sherlock stared after John and then it came to him that if John couldn't leave the flat for his own sake maybe he could do it to protect someone else.

Over the next few days with the help of Lestrade, Sherlock formulated a plan to help. His idea was simple, if he let John believe that he was in danger then John wouldn't be able to sit in the flat and let it happen. Sherlock believed in his friend even if he didn't believe in himself right now. Sherlock knew he would always try to save people because that's what John Watson did.

Sherlock had one of his homeless network deliver an address to him at 221b Baker Street one evening. When John asked what it was all about he just dismissed John with a wave of his hand and wouldn't talk about it. The following morning Sherlock was up early and left Baker Street before John got up. All he had to do now was wait at the address written on the piece of paper he'd "accidently" left lying on the kitchen table.

When John woke and went downstairs there was no sign of Sherlock. He made a cup of tea and sat down. When he saw the piece of paper Sherlock had left he recognised it as the one given to him by his homeless network. He picked it up to see what Sherlock was up to. The paper contained an address, nothing else just and address. John stared at it wondering what on earth it could mean and why Sherlock would need to be so secretive about it.

As he twisted the paper in his fingers a horrible thought came to him. Sherlock had asked the homeless network to track down Moriarty. What if that was what the address was for? What if they'd found him?

John ran down the stairs to Mrs Hudson's flat. He knocked on the door. "Oh hello dear are you alright?" Mrs Hudson asked.

"Do you know where Sherlock is?" John asked frantically.

"No he went out quite early but he didn't say where. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah it's fine." John lied "I just wondered where he'd gone that's all." John rushed back up the stairs with Mrs Hudson staring after him confused.

John sat at the table holding the piece of paper in his hand. He tried calling Sherlock but got no answer. He called Lestrade "Hi John. How're you doing?" he answered cheerfully.

"Yeah fine thanks Greg. Look you haven't heard from Sherlock have you?" John asked.

"Not for a few days. Why? Should I have?"

"I think he's gone after Moriarty."

"What?"

"I know he asked his homeless network to try and find him. Then last night one of them turned up here with a piece of paper that Sherlock wouldn't tell me about. This morning that piece of paper was on the table. It has an address on it and Sherlock is nowhere to be found. I've tried his mobile but he's not answering. I'm worried Greg."

"OK give me the address" Greg demanded. John read the address to him and then just as Sherlock had instructed Lestrade said "OK I'll meet you there" and hung up.

John was shocked. What did he do now? Lestrade had said he'd meet him there and he wasn't sure that he could do that, not even for Sherlock. John could feel his heart rate quicken. He looked again at the piece of paper. What if Lestrade didn't get there in time? John was closer in Baker Street that Lestrade was at Scotland Yard. "Damn you Sherlock!" he yelled.

John got up from the table, put on his shoes and coat and then grabbed his gun before racing down the stairs and out of the front door. Once on the pavement he froze for a few seconds. He took a deep breath and then swallowed hard. He couldn't let his best friend down, Sherlock needed him. He took another deep breath and then stepped forward and hailed a cab.

Once in the cab he gave the address to the driver. He then sat back taking deep breaths trying to steady his nerves. He had to hang in there for Sherlock's sake. He couldn't let Moriarty harm him, he just couldn't.

John was unaware but Lestrade had been watching 221b Baker Street from across the road just as Sherlock had planned. As soon as he saw John get in the cab he text Sherlock to let him know he was on his way and set about making this look as believable as possible.

He gave John a couple of minutes head start and then called for back up to meet him at the address John had given him. After all it was only him and Sherlock that knew this wasn't a real call and it was perfectly possible that Moriarty would have left the address before they got there. At least that was the story Sherlock intended to tell anyway.

Lestrade set off to the address. As he got closer he used the lights and sirens to make things as convincing as possible for John.

When the cab arrived at the address John jumped out, paid the driver and then stood for a few seconds watching the cab drive out of sight. He could feel himself shaking slightly. "Come on Watson" he told himself "Sort yourself out. Sherlock needs you."

John took a deep breath and drew his gun as he stepped into the building. As he searched each room he could feel his nerves settling and his hand getting steadier. His soldier instincts were taking over. As he progressed through the building he heard sirens outside. Must be Lestrade he thought. As he rounded the next corner he came face to face with Sherlock who looked startled at the sight of him. John dropped the gun to his side. "John! What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked.

"I could ask you the same question. I thought you'd promised you wouldn't go after Moriarty alone."

"Oh" Sherlock said simply and dropped his head. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry."

"You didn't call Lestrade either though did you? You could have been killed Sherlock." John reprimanded.

"Well he's gone anyway. I'm too late."

"That's not the point though is it?" John went on and then noticed the sad look on his friends face. "Well I'm just glad you're safe. Don't do it again though OK?"

Sherlock smiled "OK I won't. I promise."

At that moment Lestrade came round the corner with backup. "You both OK?" he asked. "Where's Moriarty?"

"Gone." Sherlock said sadly "I was too late."

"Bugger!" Lestrade exclaimed as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I really thought we had him this time." Then he turned to his team "It's OK, it's a false alarm, he's not here." As the team left the building Lestrade turned back to John "It's good to see you back to your old self anyway John. I haven't seen you out and about like this for a long time."

"It's good to be back." John smiled.

"Well I'd better go. The paperwork won't do itself. Let me know if you hear anything else. We will get this bastard though John I promise." Lestrade patted John on the shoulder and turned to leave. Sherlock knew he'd have to thank Lestrade later, he'd carried out his part of the plan perfectly. John didn't seem to suspect a thing.

Once outside Sherlock spoke first. "I'm sorry I worried you but are you alright?"

John looked at him "Actually I am. It was hard coming after you Sherlock but now I've done it I feel great." He sighed "I can't believe I actually did that."

John was smiling. The first proper smile Sherlock had seen for ages "I can believe it" Sherlock said to his friend "I never doubted you for a minute."

* * *

 _Well I hope you enjoyed the story. Please let me know what you think._


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